


Merry Crisis! (Or: The One In Which Glenn Fucking Beefs It)

by blu3boi, Meiwks, saeuene, SpacePancake



Category: Dungeons and Daddies (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Taken from a roleplay, angst. it's just angst, glenn is fucking dead from chapter one, great day for yall glenn haters ig, there isn't any yet but im going to make a hamlet reference eventually, this started as a joke and now look at us, we thought ghost glenn would be fun for goofs but that's sad too so fuck, why the close family should never be allowed near cars: an analysis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:54:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27033763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blu3boi/pseuds/blu3boi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meiwks/pseuds/Meiwks, https://archiveofourown.org/users/saeuene/pseuds/saeuene, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpacePancake/pseuds/SpacePancake
Summary: “I don’t have anybody anymore.”Nick got the words out through loud and shaky sobs, voice cracking in the middle for icing on the motherfucking cake.“I’m fucked.”Glenn dies and it's not extraordinary. He doesn't die from a monster or by the hands of an avatar of death or in an epic heroic showdown. There's no final battle, just a car ride and some bad luck. The world spins on without him, but those he was closest to are forced to deal with the grief his death leaves them with.//A collection of roleplay replies written by some stupid teens as we explore a Dead Glenn AU. It's just people being sad all the time bar the twins who are just invested in gaining more cult followers.//
Relationships: Glenn Close & Henry Oak, Glenn Close & Nick Close, Henry Oak/Mercedes Oak-Garcia, Nick Close & Del Close, Nick Close & Lark Oak & Sparrow Oak, Nick Close & Terry Jr, Terry Jr & Yeet Bigly
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	1. oh my fucking god he fucking dead

**Author's Note:**

> cw: glenn is dead. this whole fic talks about death and grief in great detail, please be careful when reading
> 
> THINGS TO NOTE:  
> \- Del Close is an OC. basic info: she's Glenn's older sister and hasn't spoken to him in more years than she's actually known him. She came back into his life in the last... 1-2 years maybe? she's a P.I. and she has commitment issues. You can read about her in 'Nick and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Aunt' if you really want to get her vibe but like, don't bother. You'll catch up  
> \- Yeet Bigly and Killa Demall came to Earth with the dads for... reasons? Don't question it, they're just here. Appreciate Yeet.  
> \- Though some minor editing has been done, these words are taken from roleplay replies and I've done my best to mostly leave everyone's work intact. This means the fic has a weird omniscient POV kind of thing? I've tried my best to avoid it being jarring but.... yeah. You'll get used to it!
> 
> WRITERS IN THIS CHAPTER:  
> Nick - Meiwks (Mei)  
> Terry Jr - blu3boi (Blu)  
> Del - spacepancake (Bodb)  
> Henry - saeuene (Lylt)  
> Format and editing - spacepancake, saeuene (Bodb, Lylt)

**DEL-NICK PHONE CALL**

**DEL: [voicemail #1]**

“Hey, kid. I don’t know when you’re going to get this but um- [she pauses] just call me back, okay? Your dad’s been in a bit of a —  _ Fuck.  _ — in a bit of an accident. You should just, get to the hospital as soon as you can, okay? We’re at the one near [location], you know? I’ll... I’ll catch you later. Call me back.”

**DEL: [voicemail #2]**

“Hey, kid. It’s Del. Again.” and her voice is just slightly shaky but that’s shakier than Nick’s ever heard it. “You should- [she pauses] I hope to god you are... picking up this  _ fucking  _ phone sometime soon. Just... get here. You should- You should be here. Just-“

**DEL: [voicemail #3]**

“Hey, Nick.”

[she pauses a long time] 

“Call me back.”

* * *

**THE BEGINNING OF THE END**

This is the fifth time Nick has put his phone somewhere while high and then completely forgotten where he put it when he’s sober again. And Jesus, it’s always a nightmare to find. When he was high, he laughed at the prospect of future Nick having to find it. It was like a stupid game with himself.. Like playing with a toddler.

Either way, throughout the day, he searches for it — narrowing it down to one area of the house by the sounds of phone calls — but they always seem to stop before Nick can actually find it. He has music playing throughout the house on a vinyl, which doesn't help, but improves his vibes anyhow.

Nick isn’t particularly worried about it — he isn’t on his phone  _ that  _ much — it’s a minor inconvenience at best. 

_ That’s what he thought. _

He eventually finds it behind the microwave, hearing just the end of a voicemail.  _ Huh _ .

Picking up his phone and, heading to charge it, he listens to the voicemails.

_ His heart drops. _

He quickly calls Del back before he even gets through the third one fully. He’s staring at the times they happened, panicking more than he has in his entire fucking life.

_ Click. _

He hears it being picked up.

  
  


* * *

**DEL-NICK PHONE CALL**

**DEL:** “Nick... Jesus.  _ Fuck.  _ Did you get my voicemails?”

**NICK:** “Where the fuck is my dad? Yeah, I fucking- I got the gist, where the fuck is he?  _ HOW  _ the fuck is he? I lost my fucking phone-“

**DEL:** “I’m not sure if this should be over-the-phone shit, kid...”

**NICK:** “...Where are you? Are you still at the hospital? I can- I can find a way over, I just-“

**DEL:** “Yeah, I am. Maybe you shouldn’t- you’re at the house, right? Maybe I should come to you instead. I don’t know if you should- I don’t know if you should be here, kid.”

**NICK:** “If dad’s there and he’s hurt why the fuck would you come here..? I wanna see him and make sure he’s okay-“

**DEL:** “ _ Nick. _ Your dad- Look, I can’t- You can come here if you want, I need to sort some things out anyway, but I don’t know if I can let you see him-“

**NICK:** “Why not...? He’s my fucking dad, why can’t I... why can’t I see him..?”

**DEL:** “I don’t want to do this over the phone, kid-“

**NICK:** “... I’m coming to the hospital. I’ll- I’ll ask TJ to drive me or something.”

**DEL:** ”Alright... alright, I’ll see you then.”

[he hangs up]

  
  


* * *

**NICK-TJ DM**

**NICK:** hey dude

**NICK:** are u free rn

**NICK:** I need u to drive me somewhere, it’s really important

**TJ:** yeah i’m free

**TJ:** what’s up? is something wrong?

**NICK:** yea

**NICK:** My dad got in an accident

**NICK:** I missed the calls

**NICK:** I need u to take me to the hospital

**TJ:** shit yeah okay

**TJ:** i’m on my way

**NICK:** Thx

* * *

**HENRY-GLENN DM**

**HENRY:** Hey Glenn! Are you coming to the potluck tonight! It's been a while since we've seen you, and Merc and I have really missed you.

**HENRY:** I'm sorry, I forgot you've been busy on tour recently! It's alright if you ignore this, I can just ask Del.

**HENRY:** On the off chance that you do see this though, we did prepare some of those chalupas you said you liked the last time you came over.

  
  


* * *

**THE DRIVE**

_ Something is off. _

Something, in the balance of the world, feels incredibly off. And terrifying. His father in the hospital and Del’s reactions to his words..? None of that sounds good. None of that sounds  _ okay.  _ It sounds... scary.

Nick is scared for the first time in a long while. 

He knows his dad will be okay — his dad’s strong. His dad’s all he has. If they took his dad away, he’d have nothing — the world wouldn’t do that. It couldn’t. Clinging onto how stupid and unrealistic that thought is, how much his dad survived in faerun, how cool he is —  _ soothing his own fears —  _ Nick waits for a car to pull up outside so he can hurry the fuck up and leave.

_ There has to be a reason Del won’t let him see his dad. Maybe it’s just Del being Del. Rude and narcy. He has to ignore her tone for that one to work though. _

_ Maybe his dad is just... too gory. His injuries are real gross. Yeah. Probably. Del doesn’t understand how awful the injuries are that Nick has seen before, that he’s chill with them, that he’d rather die than not be with his father when he’s in pain. _

_ They were bros. They took care of each other. _

Watching car lights pull up outside, Nick rushes out and jumps into the passenger's seat, buckling up immediately and glancing over at Terry with a very bad attempt to hide his fear.

_ “Thanks.” _

— — —

The house has been full of  _ so  _ many people for the past couple of days. Nowhere in the house is safe from not running into anybody. Terry couldn’t even retreat into his bedroom, the adults had somehow managed to squeeze three of his cousins in there. It’s not that Terry doesn’t love his family and spending time with them, it’s just a lot going from a house with three people in it to a whole baseball team’s worth of people. It doesn’t help that even  _ more  _ people would be showing up tomorrow. It’s going to be a fucking mess. 

Terry spends most of his time in the kitchen with his aunts and his mom, he’s the most helpful there. One of them would occasionally shoo him off to distract the younger of his cousins, it’s uncommon to see Terry without at least one baby or kid in his arms. God, being the oldest of the kids sucks ass. So he’s  _ very  _ relieved when Nick first texts, finally finding an excuse to leave the house other than tagging along with an uncle to go get more eggnog or something. The relief he feels quickly disappears when he discovers why Nick’s texting. Quickly, he hunts down his mom, tells her what’s up, and leaves.

Terry watches as Nick rushes to his car, the obvious fear in his eyes. As soon as he gets in the car, Terry peels out of the driveway as Nick gives him the address. Driving slightly over the speed limit, Terry’s eyes flick over to Nick.

“Do you know what happened? If you don’t wanna talk, that’s fine. I’m here for you dude.”

“I don’t know. Del said it was an accident- so I’m assuming a car crash makes the most sense..? Um- she said I can’t see him, and that she doesn’t wanna tell me shit over the phone so I, um- I don’t know it’s- Uh—“ 

Nick quickly loses the conversational attitude he had at the start of speaking after going over what she said before, trying to brush it off to the best of his abilities.

_ She was overreacting. It’s fine. She’s making this a big deal when it’s not. If it was a big deal then.... then... _

Nick buries his face in his arms and leans against the door, trying not to let his eyes swell up with tears the way he feels like they would. The way they already  _ are. _

  
  


Terry gets a bad feeling when Nick mentions Del not wanting him to see and that she wouldn’t say anything not in person. That was never good. Terry couldn’t let Nick see his worry, he had to be there for him. Terry places a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, Nick, I’m here for you, okay? I’ll do anything you need me to.” Terry doesn’t want to make promises he can’t keep. Say that Glenn is okay, that this isn’t that big of a deal. Terry knows that being lied to about that fucking sucks and gets your hopes up for nothing. “I got you, man.”

Feeling the other’s hand on his shoulder, Nick quickly adjusts to holding it tightly for a moment, the extra comfort honestly a huge relief.

He doesn’t wanna say anything to set off Terry with sad memories — likewise he doesn’t wanna put himself in a mindset where he thinks about that kind of thing either. So for the majority of the time, he’s just quiet.

He’s on the verge of crying for the entire ride, but that’s being hidden to the best of his abilities.

_ “I’m scared.”  _ he says, very quietly, as they drove along.

Terry feels Nick’s hand gripping his, and he opts to take it in his own. Giving gentle reassuring squeezes, reminding Nick that he’s here.

“It’s okay to be scared. This is a scary thing, Nick.” Terry doesn’t want to sugarcoat the situation but also doesn’t want to fill Nick’s head with dark thoughts. The hospital that Nick gave him the address to begins to arrive in view.

“Nick, if you need me to come in with you, I will.” Terry pushes back all the anxieties hospitals give him for the time being. Nick is gonna need a friend for this, Terry feels it in his soul. Something awful must’ve happened if Del didn’t want to tell Nick. She wouldn’t mess with him like that. Glenn definitely doesn’t just have a broken leg and some scrapes.  _ This is gonna be bad. _

“...can- can you..?” Nick’s voice is small, quieter than usual, but he doesn’t know how else to ask. How the hell are you supposed to ask? “...Um- even if you can just, sit away from where I’m talking to Del. I want, I want to be able to come hug you. If I need it. It’s probably fine I just... yeah.”

He stares at his lap quietly, almost as if a hint of shame is mixing with the fear.

“Of course, Nick.” Terry parks the car in a spot relatively close to the entrance. Turning to Nick, he goes to take both his hands.

“Are you ready to go in? I’ll hold your hand the whole way until we find Del.” He keeps his voice steady and warm, doing his absolute best to not make Nick feel worse.

Flashing a small, faint smile, Nick nods and holds his hands back tightly.

“...yeah. I mean, even if I wasn’t ready, standing out here won’t do anything. It’ll just waste time.” He says quietly, letting go of one of his hands and turning to head into the hospital.

He, of course, immediately looks for Del, sending a quick text.

* * *

**DEL-NICK DM**

**NICK:** @ the entrance with Tj

**DEL:** I’ll be down in a minute.

* * *

**THE HOSPITAL**

He keeps hold of Nick’s hand as they begin to walk into the hospital. Terry has never visited a hospital around the holidays and he’s very grateful for that. The normally sterile and white building is covered in cheery decorations. A grand Christmas tree stands in the waiting room, shining lights and golden decorations littering it. Bright red bows cover the tree, fake presents underneath it. It feels gross. The thought of people who are stuck here getting a fake tree with no personality as the only tree they get... It’s a little thing, but it makes Terry incredibly sad to think about. 

_ God, how the fuck does Nick feel about this? _

Terry squeezes Nick’s hand a little.

“Do you know where Del is? Where we can meet up with her?”

“I sent her a text. She said she’s coming down.”

Nick keeps a quiet tone, not liking the vibes around here. The fake Christmas vibes — commercial and pitiful in comparison to the regular fun Christmases Nick would have with his dad.

_ They definitely were gonna need Christmas after this. _

Giving himself a very soft smile, he does his best to focus on the idea of that rather than the current situation.

_ Things will be okay. What should he get his dad for Christmas..? Probably what he was saving for if he’s going through all the gross hospital shit. _

_ Maybe a drone..? Hm. _

He leans against Terry gently, brainstorming to keep his mind busy.

— — —

Del Close is not feeling very much of anything right now. 

She had been sick to her stomach through the phone call with the hospital and the waiting and the stilted talking but ever since she had received the news, she’s been feeling nothing. Like her whole brain had just shut off and all that’s left now is the basic functions. She’s fine. She’s  _ fine.  _ She is completely fine. 

But  _ God,  _ he was her fucking little brother. Her baby brother. She had only just gotten him back, they had so much to make up for that they never could now. 

That doesn’t matter right now though. She was a tiny part of Glenn’s life, Nick was  _ all  _ of it. She doesn’t want some doctor telling Nick the news, mostly in case the kid got angry. If he’s going to get angry at anybody, she wants all of it directed her way and she isn’t even sure why. How is she supposed to tell him this though? How the  _ fuck  _ do you tell a kid “hey your dad fucking bit the dust, what do you want to do now?”. Obviously, the conversation of what he wants to do would have to wait until later, but they’d need to talk about it eventually. He’d have to choose where he wants to go, she doesn’t want to make that decision for him.

The hospital fucking sucks too. At least normally they were pretty clear about being a somber place, but the Christmas decorations fill the place with faux cheer. It’s nasty, like a mockery of the situation. Glad everyone else is celebrating the holidays while she’s thinking about funeral arrangements. Whoop-di-fucking-doo.

She heads down to the entrance a little while after Nick and Terry arrive, and when she first sees him, she hesitates to approach. He’s so fucking  _ small _ , he’s just a little kid. She can’t fucking do this, she needs to get out. She should just dump him with the doctors and the court system and wish for his best while she continues on with her life as well as she could. She shakes off those feelings though.  _ She  _ doesn’t matter here, Nick does. She isn’t stupid.

She walks over to the two and tries to find something comforting to do. Her arms remain loose by her sides and all she cant get out is, “Nick. uh-“ before she loses her words.

She doesn’t look...  _ upset _ , from appearance alone, but her gaze lacks its usual piercing state and her shoulders droop instead of being held tense and rigged, and she looks more distracted than stern. She looks tired, really tired. Somewhere during everything she’d taken off her large jacket and without it she loses the illusion of the wide build it gave her. Without it, she looks smaller.

Head perking up from its previous down position, Nick feels Terry drop his hand and step aside — and is left just pulling his sleeves over his hands in a nervous gesture that he tries to play off.

_ “Where’s my dad?” _

He doesn’t wanna waste time with stupid hellos, they wasted enough time driving here. His dad was  _ hurt  _ and Nick needs to go see him — tell him he loves him, talk about conspiracy theories and tell him about all that happened while he was gone. He has to see him. And see that he’s okay.

He’s terrified of the aspect that he isn’t, but he’s positive that he will be. His dad was-  **is** , strong. 

No, his dad is gonna be hurt but okay, and he’s gonna tell him what they’re doing for Christmas, and Nick is gonna smuggle him in mcdonalds and they’ll chill in the hospital room until he’s better enough to get out.

_ That’s what’s happening. That’s what’s happening. That’s what’s happening. It has to be. _

Del has one single thought.  _ ‘Fuck.’ _

“We should talk about this somewhere more private. There’s this room near ICU, okay?”

She can’t touch the subject of his dad yet, because she  _ knows  _ she couldn’t hide the inevitable news break any longer if she did. They need to get away from the people all around them, Nick needs privacy to handle this. She needs privacy to handle this.

“...Okay? Then you’ll take me to my dad..?” He hums as she ignores the question. He’s very set in his mindset: see his dad as soon as possible. And it shows how stubborn he’s being about it.

But nevertheless, he starts walking to wherever the hell Del spoke about. 

He walks and glares like an angsty teen — a hard cover over the absolute fear stricken into his heart.

And if you were to pay close (haha.... close...) enough attention, you could see his hand shaking as he reaches towards the knob of the room he assumes she was speaking about.

_ He’s just a kid. And he’s terrified. Nick has never felt this small in his life. _

As much as Del hates the Christmas decorations, this room is even worse. There is nothing here, whether by intention or forgetfulness she doesn’t know, just modest furniture in a brightly lit room. Everything’s just so spick and span and homely and too far from anything to do with the Closes. It doesn’t feel like a Glenn place or a Del place or a Nick place, it feels empty and like an offering of pity that no one could actually give.

She closes the door behind the two of them and her hand stays on it for a moment longer than it should’ve. She doesn’t want to do this, she doesn’t  _ ever  _ want to do this. She wants to just keep the kid ignorant forever, pause time or  _ some  _ fucking shit so she doesn’t have to face that kind of thing.

“You should probably sit down.” She tells him, because she can’t bring herself to say what needs to be said.

Nick doesn’t make a move, just stands around the middle of the room and kicks the ground softly. 

“...no. I’m good. We won’t be here long.” He replies simply, because he doubts they would be. Or they wouldn't be if she would hurry up and say what she has to so he can go visit his goddamn dad.  _ What room is he in? Is he awake? How bad are his injuries? Did he ask for me? Is he mad I wasn’t here faster? He’s probably upset. Disappointed he took so long. But he’s here now. He’s here and he’s ready to talk to him and comfort him and apologize for not getting the messages earlier. _

He’s ready to see him. He  _ needs  _ to see him.

“Right.” Del says. “Look, Nick. Glenn- your dad, was hurt real bad. He fought hard but he... uh-“

She can’t bounce around it. It would just make it worse to wait. Rip that fucking bandage off.

“He didn’t make it.”

Nick’s heart sinks.

_ “He- he what?” _

It’s as if his entire world comes crashing down around him. Nick just looks at her in disbelief. Shocked, as if this isn’t real, as if she’s lying to him. As if he’s  _ begging  _ to have heard her wrong.

_ Please say that you’re kidding. I’d prefer a sick prank to this being the truth _

“I’m sorry, kid.” She keeps his gaze, and holds it unwaveringly. She isn’t sad or angry or  _ anything _ , she just knows this is unfair. This is  _ so  _ fucking unfair. The universe is a grade-A fucking bitch who has it out for her and this poor kid.

“It was a little while ago, after my second call sometime, I don’t... I’m so fucking sorry.”

She doesn’t know  _ why  _ she’s sorry, but that’s just something you say, isn’t it? Sorry doesn’t mean sorry, it’s an offer of comfort. A non-physical hand on the shoulder.

_ Nick wants to yell. He wants to scream at her, blame her for not finding a different way to get him, for not sending someone to tell him the moment she found out his dad was in a crash. He wants to tell Del that he hates her, that this is all her fault. That she ruined his life. _

_ But that isn’t true, is it? _

Nick can’t say anything, he just looks at her with pure... hurt, eyebrows slightly furrowed. 

He doesn’t cry. He doesn’t tear up, or yell, or sob — nothing. 

He just turns away from her and opens the door, walking as quickly as he can towards the entrance. 

_ He needs to get away. _

Del doesn’t call after Nick but she follows behind him. She needs to make sure he doesn’t go and do something  _ stupid _ , because she  _ knows  _ he will. The kid is a wildcard  _ normally _ , Lord could only predict what he’ll be like when he’s hurt like this. It’s pretty easy to keep pace slightly behind him, but when she realises he definitely isn’t just heading over to his friend she catches up to him and stands in his way. “Nick. Where are you  _ going _ , kid?”

“...I need air. I’m going outside.” He says simply, glaring at Del where she stands.

He doesn’t make a move to push past her. He just waits for her to go.

Terry is sitting anxiously, bouncing his leg to try to get out the nerves. He knew what had happened. When his dad “died” he had been there, his mom wanting him to say goodbye. It wasn’t hard to figure out why Del wanted to pull Nick away. So Terry just sat and waited for Nick or Del to come back out. He gets to his feet immediately when he sees Nick begin to walk into the waiting room. He doesn’t expect Nick to walk past him, Del on his tail. People deal with grief differently and if that’s what Nick needs, he wouldn’t force him to do something else.

Instead he quietly follows the two, surprised when Del cuts in front of Nick. Terry does his best to get Del to look at him, simply mouthing, “Let him go”.

Del had planned to let him go anyway when she saw the way Nick  _ looked  _ at her, but his friend’s prompting further confirms what she wants to do. She sighs and looks to Nick almost pleadingly. 

“Just, promise me you’ll stick around the area, okay?”

Nick just keeps his glare.

“Where the fuck else would I go?” He says, a harsh bite in his tone. He starts walking out — hesitating when he looks back at Terry — before moving out past Del, rounding the corner of the hospital and sinking to the ground against the wall.

_ Then, he just starts sobbing. _

His body shakes like crazy, and he had to gasp for air between heavy sobs because of how hard he’s crying. It’s as if he’s drowning — body barely letting him get enough air to keep going — and when he gets the air it’s immediately pushed out in a sob.

Snot and tears run down his face, and he buries his head in his knees, tucked in a ball like he’s trying to close in on himself.

_ Nick has nothing anymore. Nobody to impress or to play music with, nobody to hug him and call him the coolest, nobody to wait for when he was home. _

_ His only family is his father’s shitty babysitter who had been gone the majority of his life. _

_ If Del considers him family, she’s wrong. Plain as that. _

Del watches him go and doesn’t move. At all. She stands frozen and dazed and non-responsive. She isn’t sad or angry or worried or  _ anything _ , she’s just fine. She’s fine. She is  _ fine. _

She has things to do. Arrangements to make. Telling Nick was just one box on a checklist. She can do whatever else she needs to do now. But she can’t. She can’t move.

Terry gives a quiet nod to Del, like  _ fuck _ , she had lost someone too, and slowly follows Nick. Not invading his space, trying to talk to him and hold him, just being someone that was there — a presence for Nick. Nick needs to cry, and sometimes that's all you can do. After standing on the other side of the wall for a  _ long  _ time, not watching Nick, just listening, Terry rounds the corner. God, this strikes a chord. Terry hadn’t cried until they had gotten home, that’s when it had actually hit him. 

Kneeling down next to Nick, Terry doesn’t say anything for a moment. Doesn’t make a move to rub Nick’s back, hold his hand, or hug him. Being unexpectedly touched was the last thing Terry had wanted. Instead he lowers his voice, keeping it as quiet and gentle as possible.

_ “Nick, can I hug you? You don’t have to speak, you can just nod.”  _ His voice wavers ever so slightly. _ “I-I’m here for you okay? Whatever you need, I’m your guy, Nick.” _

Nick physically can’t speak, so he’s thankful for not being asked to. Instead, he just nods quickly.

_ He doesn’t want most people to touch him right now, but Terry is different. _

_ Sure, he doesn’t think Terry had the same experience — the fear of having no family. The lack of any other parent to go to. Terry doesn’t know what it’s like to lose all you had, but he’s someone Nick trusts. And he’s someone who’s lost a parent. And he’s someone who’s here. _

So, he lets the other hug him and just wraps around him tightly, sobbing messily onto his shoulders.

His head aches already from dehydration, worsening with every tear, but he can’t do anything about it. He can’t stop crying, and he hates it. He hates everything.

_ Why is this happening to him? What did he do to deserve this? _

Terry holds Nick to his body tightly, thanking any god listening that Nick had asked him to be here. With the way Del had froze up, Nick could’ve been left sitting and crying next to this wall for hours. Cradling Nick’s head in his hand, his other arm wrapped around him tightly. For the longest time Terry just held him, not wanting to speak or else Nick would know that he’s also crying. 

None of Terry’s friends were there when his dad died. It’s not that wouldn’t care, he was just at an age where they wouldn’t have been able to help. Terry knew that he had people that were there, fuck, just on his mom’s side of the family there’s enough people to fill a school bus. And his dad’s side is equally just as large. Still, he felt so alone. Terry can’t even begin to fathom what Nick is feeling like. 

_ “I’m here Nick.”  _

_ All of the phrases you think of to comfort a grieving person fucking suck. “I’m sorry.” for what? You didn’t kill them. “It’s gonna be okay.” it’s not okay right now, and it might never be. “Everything’s alright.” again, it absolutely isn’t. “It was their time.” how fucking patronizing. Why not just say, “it’s good they died, they were supposed to”?? _

Instead of any of that bullshit, Terry just reassures Nick that he’s not alone and that he wasn’t going to leave him anytime soon.

_ “I don’t have anybody anymore.” _

Nick got the words out through loud and shaky sobs, voice cracking in the middle for icing on the motherfucking cake.

_ “I’m fucked.” _

He doesn’t know what to say. Every time he speaks it sounds like it’s a forced-out cry of pain. It’s audible, the amount of spit and grossness in his mouth, just… disgusting, really.

_ He doesn’t care anymore. _

There are two options that Terry has. Invite Nick over to his house, only for Nick to get even more sad because of all the festivities. Or, spend the night at Nick’s house which could become a whole mess of seeing Glenn’s things. Being able to smell him again. Look to his spot on the couch expecting him to be there but he isn’t...  _ Fuck _ .

Terry begins to cry a little harder, memories resurfacing. The hug tightens, not just for Nick now. Terry is losing his words, his clear thoughts of what to say. What he can do to make Nick feel... make him feel not dead. Numb. An aching sorrow that never truly leaves no matter how many fucking therapy sessions you go to. How many drugs you have shove down your throat to start feeling normal again. To not feel like someone shot you in the stomach and watched you bleed out but you never die from the blood loss. There’s just a hole inside your body and nothing you do can fill it back up... 

Terry can’t do anything to help with that.

Nick just stays there, exhausted and lightheaded and broken, sobbing out words between fits of crying too hard.

“I could’ve seen him b- before if I-I-I didn’t lose my fucking phone- I could’ve made- made it-”

Then he has to stop talking, because it feels like he can't breathe. There’s no aif, it’s just a burning ache in his lungs while he gasps and lets out unpredictable outbursts of tears. If he didn’t have Terry here, he’s pretty sure he would’ve been even worse somehow. Nobody to cling on, to cry onto.

He can’t even apologize for getting Terry’s hoodie all sobbed on. He can’t do anything.

_ He’s useless. _

_ “I- Nick, trust me, you wouldn’t’ve wanted to see him.” _

This is one thing Terry knows as a fact. If he could’ve just stayed home and watched cartoons until his mom came home and told him the news, he’d take that. Seeing his father, in his last moments, that’s what ruined him. The image of him hooked up to machines, surrounded by white sheets, white walls, white everything. So small and weak, so not how his dad was. Nick’s lucky that his last memories of his father were of him alive and healthy, not already dead while still breathing.

What composure Terry still had is gone. Sobs leave his mouth before he has the time to choke them back down. Quickly, Terry goes to cover his mouth, not wanting Nick to get upset that he’s also crying. It’s too late, hiccups and sobs rack his body. They must look like a mess to anyone driving by, but Terry doesn’t care. He can’t care.

“N-Nick, you don’t d-deserve this okay?  _ No one deserves this.” _

_ ”Neither did he.” _

There’s something nice, though bittersweet, about Terry crying with him. It’s a distant comfort though, really he can’t take direct notice of any of that with the sharp pain in his chest.

_ What if he does deserve this…? What if it’s because he wasn’t a good enough son? Would his dad even be dead if he wasn’t here? Would his mom? _

Nick runs out of words to say. His head feels too light, he feels too sad — too dead. All he can do is wonder what’s going to happen to him now. Is Del his guardian? Is he gonna have to get adopted or some shit? Darryl has like four kids now with Yeet and Killa being around, could he just go with him?

Nobody would want him. Del fucking hates him, and he’s all the other dads’ least favourite son judging by how he stole a minivan and ran away in it trying to make a living selling drugs, and constantly disrespects them. He’s gotten better, sure, but he’s still a shitty kid who smokes all the time and fucks  _ their _ kids up.  _ What a bad influence. _

Then, he feels guilty for even thinking about where he’s going.  _ Are you just gonna move on that fast? Your dad is gone. He’s gone and never coming back and you’re focused on yourself? What a shitty, shitty kid. Fucking loser. Your dad would hate you if he was here. _

_ He makes a note that he’d have to attempt to cook a meal when he’s home at some point. Some sort of offering. It’s distant in his thoughts, but it’s there. _

Taking a shaky breath, Terry nods in agreement with Nick.

“Do- Do you need me to stay with you? I will if that’s what you need.” Terry couldn’t give less of a shit about ‘missing Christmas’. None of that fucking matters right now.

Nick just shakes his head.

_ “You’ll get bored. I dont- I don’t think I'm gonna be doing anything, for a while. I just-” _

Nick doesn’t plan on leaving his room ever again, really.

“Are you sure? I really don’t mind, Nick, I want to be there for you.” Terry sniffles, starting to focus on Nick again. “... if that’s what you need that’s okay, just, call me if you just... fuck, I don’t know, if you need more hugs or you need to cry or just need a distraction. Don’t isolate yourself, I- I’m here.”

Nick nods softly, though he isn’t really listening to him.

Nick  _ wants _ to isolate. He wants to be alone. He wants to never go out again and to wait until everybody around him forgets he exists, and then  _ still _ never move.

So he doesn’t say much else. He just keeps crying silently for ages, until he runs out of tears.

Holding onto Nick, slowly rocking them back and forth, Terry lets Nick cry. A part of him is doubtful that Nick will actually reach out. It’s very valid of him to want to disappear. Terry had wanted to disappear and he did. People would come and he’d push and push and push until eventually everybody stopped coming. Unfortunately, that’s when Terry realized he needed someone. Anyone. But it was too late. He was so scared that he made everyone else afraid of him. He doesn’t want Nick to do that too. Terry decides he’ll stop by and check on Nick if he doesn’t ask him to come over himself.

Eventually, Terry figures it would be a good idea to find Del. Talk about what’s next. Carefully Terry picks up Nick, wondering what to do next.

“Do you want me to drop you off at my car? or do you want to stay with me and talk to Del?”

Wrapping his arms tighter around Terry, Nick hesitates for a second.

_ “I don't want Del to see me crying.” _

His voice is a bit hoarser now, sobs replaced with very shaky breaths, only interrupted by the occasional hiccup.

He wants to hear what they’re talking about, but crying around Del sounds terrifying. He isn’t that comfortable around her. He doesn’t wanna see her stonefaced and lacking any tears for her fucking brother.

“Okay, that’s okay.” Terry begins to take Nick to his car, glancing at Del in the waiting room as they pass by. Once he gets to his car, he places Nick in one of the seats the way a parent would their child.

“I’ll be back soon, just... hang tight.” And he gives Nick a little forehead kiss before he leaves to go talk to Del.

As he walks up to Del he’s not sure what to expect. He hasn’t talked to her a lot since she showed up. Still, she must be hurting too... right? Terry honestly doesn’t know her well enough to make any judgements. When he finally reaches her, he sits down in the seat next to her, realising his face is probably a mess of runny eyeliner and snot. Quickly, he wipes his face with his sleeve. When Del looks at Terry, she sees that the eyeliner is smudged across his face faintly and his eyes are red as fuck.

“Nick is in my car, he wanted some more time alone.” Terry clears his throat a little. “I can take care of him for a bit if you, like, need to do anything... how are you doing?” Terry cringes internally at how he phrased that, he wasn’t thinking the best right now.

“I-I just mean, like, if you need to, you can talk to me too.” Del probably doesn’t want to talk to some random kid about this, but Terry has to offer.

“It’s fine.” She brushes off. “Thanks for looking after Nick.”

The kid had definitely found the conversation with Nick rough, judging by his appearance. She just wishes she’d been able to do it instead. She should’ve been around from the start, then Nick would’ve known her. Would’ve trusted her. They could’ve been a proper family for a while if she hadn’t been such a fucking coward. She could’ve had longer with Glenn.

She’s not looking at Terry now, she’s looking blankly out the window at the car park. “Did he mention if he wants to go back to his place or not? I was thinking of bringing back to mine so he doesn’t have to but, you know. He might want to go home.” 

She doesn’t know if it’s  _ good  _ to bring him home, but if he wants to, then she isn’t going to oppose him.

“I- he didn’t really specify. I offered to stay with him but he said... that I’d get bored. I’m pretty sure he just wants to be alone.” Terry debates how much he wants to tell this woman. This pretty much stranger... fuck it, he’s already here, maybe they’ll have something in common now.

“Uh, you should bring him home. I don’t know where you live so I can’t come see him... when my dad died, six? Seven years ago?” God he’s already forgetting when it happened. “I tried isolating myself and I pushed everyone away, so I... he’s gonna need friends. And I- I can talk to him about this, and he sorta said that... he doesn’t want you to see him cry.”

She frowns ever so slightly at that last part. She isn’t surprised at all, it makes sense. She and Nick aren’t  _ close  _ (despite the name), and she can be... abrasive. 

“You don’t think it’ll fuck him up or anything, to be around Glenn’s stuff?” She knows it’s going to fuck  _ her  _ up anyway. She hates reminders of people. Her own place is just her and her alone, no signs of anyone else ever making contact with her to be seen out in the open. “I can give you my address if I need to bring him to my place instead.”

She isn’t exactly sure why she’s talking to this kid so freely, but he  _ had  _ just told her about his dead dad, so she isn’t going to brush him off or anything at the very least.

Terry is taken aback. “I mean, he’s already fucked up. His dad is dead.” That’s really the first time Terry acknowledges that someone’s died. Someone he knew, had talked to, whose house he was at frequently. One of his dad’s best and only friends... 

“It’s gonna suck no matter when he goes back. It’ll be better to just, get it done...” Terry looks up from his hands, he forgets when he started staring at them. He goes to look Del in the eyes, putting a hand on her shoulder, so much sadness in the eyes of a person so young.

Del looks towards him once he puts his hand on her shoulder. He looks so  _ old  _ for a kid. Del knew what that was like, had seen the same look in the mirror as a kid. She just hopes to God the pressure of being ‘mature’ at such a young age won’t break him the way it did her at that age once it all became too much.

_ “It’s really gonna fucking suck.”  _ His voice wavers slightly before he steels himself, quickly pulling his hand away from Del.

The physical contact and his tone breaks her resolve just a little and she can suddenly _feel_ again. Like a light switch flicked on. Jesus fucking Christ, her baby brother is fucking _dead._ She can’t ever hear him laugh or see him smile or watch the pure _love_ he had for his kid ever again. She isn’t going to get anything. She _hadn’t_ gotten anything, she missed so much. It isn’t _right_ what happened. Glenn had a kid to look after, Del had nothing. Del was the protector. She should’ve died instead of him, she was _supposed_ to die first. It isn’t right.

She doesn’t tear up, but her shoulders tense and she has to look away from Terry again pretty quickly, her hands shaking just slightly. 

_ “Yeah.” _ She says, voice low and dead. “I know.”

This is unfair though. The kid beside her has been crying and is looking at her all shaky-voiced and sad-eyed and she’s been letting  _ him  _ comfort  _ her _ . “I’m being shitty. Are  _ you  _ okay, kid? I know he’s not- you’re not  _ Nick,  _ but this isn’t a walk in the park for you either.”

“I’m okay,  _ you  _ shouldn’t be worrying about  _ me.  _ Yeah, I’m sad and this brought up a lot of bad memories of losing my dad. But those are memories, you’re living this.” Terry watches Del, her hands shaking, looking much different than how he’s seen her before. He sits in silence for a moment, trying to get his shit together. Think of how he can help in whatever little way he can.

“You should talk to my mom, Samantha. I think you two must’ve met once at some stupid potluck.” Terry grimaces, realizing what the next thing they’ll all be getting together for is.

“Sh-she’s a therapist and she gets... she gets  _ this.  _ I get this. I can give you her number if you’d like it.”

“Ah- yeah. Maybe. I’ll take it and I’ll uh, I’ll think about it.” It’s a no. She doesn’t want to talk to fucking anybody, she never did. But she isn’t going to reject the kid’s offer like that. She can at least pretend to consider it.

She wants no one more than she wants anyone. She wants to go back to before she met up with Glenn again. When her roommate had just left her and she was alone again in her shitty ass apartment. What she really needs right about now is a cigarette, and maybe enough alcohol to let her forget about things for a while. 

The second last time she’d heard from Glenn, he’d sounded so excited. It was reminiscent of what he’d been like as a bratty kid. He was going to be back in time for Christmas this year and was going to surprise Nick with it. He’d known for quite a bit of time now and Del hadn’t heard him sound so happy in a long while. He’d get to have a proper Christmas with Nick for once. And with his friends and with  _ her _ . She’d just been included, not even asked. Like it was a given she would come if he said so. And of course she hadn’t said no. One, because she wanted to come, and two... because she had just been so readily included. Like he just forgot that she’d  _ abandoned _ him for years and they were just...  _ good _ again.

God, he was such an idiot. And she loves him so dearly. 

Del sighs. “You’re a good kid... I’m glad Nick has you during this shit, at least.” Because he sure as hell isn't going to rely on her, she knows  _ that  _ much.

Terry goes to take his phone out, cause he’s not a goddamn narc that memorizes people’s numbers, but stops partway through, giving a sigh as he puts it back. Looking her up and down, Terry can get a pretty good read on her. Turning away, staring at the huge commercial ass Christmas tree, he wonders what’s happening at home. They must be baking cookies or having the kids open their one Christmas Eve present. He’s not sure how he’s going to be able to go home and act like this didn’t happen. Maybe he’ll call his mom, tell her he’s gonna stay at a hotel, or try to convince Nick to let him stay with him, or stay over at Grant’s. Anywhere that isn’t home, that doesn’t have traces of dad.

“When my dad died, I pushed any and all help away. The bad and the good. I had gotten so good at pretending to be strong that people eventually stopped asking how I was and that made me feel happy. I was finally alone and that’s what I thought I wanted.” Terry takes a deep breath.

“It wasn’t what I needed. Being alone made everything worse and it made  _ me  _ worse... I’m not gonna say that I know what you need or that  _ you’ll _ even know what you need, but you don’t need to be strong.” Terry looks back to her, he seems like he’s about to cry, but is holding it together. Taking Del’s hands in his, he gives her a warm smile as the tears he had welled up begin to gently roll down his face.

“You don’t need to be alone either.”

She lets her hands be taken by Terry and looks towards him and it  _ hurts _ . She knows he’s right, deep down, but she doesn’t want him to be. Because not being strong and not being alone means letting herself break down and needing people, and she can’t do that. Because she doesn’t actually  _ have  _ anyone. She doesn’t actually have any friends, Glenn’s friends are  _ Glenn’s _ friends and Terry? is just a kid. She couldn’t rely on him for emotional support on good conscience. 

So... no. She does give his hands a quick squeeze in thanks, but pulls away. Instinctively —  _ stupidly _ — she reaches over to Terry’s face and wipes away a tear from his cheek. She feels like an idiot afterwards. 

She allows herself to smile at him a little as she stands up from the chair. “Thanks, kid. I should go... there’s some more paperwork that needs to be done and shit like that. Can you keep an eye on Nick? Or at least, convince him to stay in here if you need to leave.”

Terry appreciates the gesture and just nods.

“I’ll stay with him, I can bring him home unless you want to be with him for that.” Terry thinks for a moment. “Actually, and this is gonna sound shitty, he might not want you there for that. It’s gonna be rough.” Terry gets up as well, wiping the rest of his tears away.

“I can handle that if you need me to.”

She slightly frowns again, not because she doesn’t  _ know  _ Nick doesn’t want her there, but because she’s been dumping so much on Terry. She was already so completely  _ shit  _ at this, how much of her baggage and responsibility did this kid need to take?

“You shouldn’t have to...” she begins. “I know Nick would like anyone  _ but  _ me to bring him, but... well, if there’s no one else, maybe you should. You’re right.” 

This is a shitty situation. She doesn’t  _ want  _ this kid to have to deal with Nick, but there’s no one else. He’s right about Nick not wanting her there for that, and she knows no one else. There’s no solution that magically ticks every box. She has to sacrifice the idea of better solutions as the price of her not making more connections in the past.

“It’s okay, I can do this. I  _ really  _ don’t mind at all.” Terry doesn’t want to make Del feel worse for not being able to do this. Plus, she shouldn’t be the one to see Nick’s reaction, Nick wouldn’t want that. 

Terry gives a polite nod to Del, the thought of offering a hug crosses his mind but he knows she’d say no. So he walks back to the car where Nick is sitting, the fuzzy Christmas music playing in the waiting room no longer assaulting his ears. There’s only silence and howling wind, the closest California can get to snow, before Terry enters the car.

“Nick, are you ready to go back yet? If you need me to drive around for a bit, we can do that. Whatever you need.” Terry puts his hand on Nick’s shoulder.

Over the time it takes for Terry to talk to Del, Nick goes from loud, rough, throat-hurting cries out — practically screaming out into the world for being how it is — to quiet sobs into his knees, curling up against the door and staying unmoving as his head pounded with his body’s beg for water.

When Terry enters, he’s just staring out the window. His stupid jean jacket has been thrown onto the floor with a rattle of pins. He has his hair down now, tired of it being up. He considers cutting it when he gets home.

He quietly pushes the other’s hand from his shoulder and shrugs

“Home. Please.”

His voice is incredibly rough, and he just.. quietly sits there. Waiting to start going.

Terry starts the car, turning the heat on. It’s cold as fuck outside and he’s unsure how long Nick had been sitting without a jacket on. 

He speaks softly. 

“Okay.” 


	2. just straight up not vibing my guy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to wait until chapter three was done to post this one but I felt that hallowe’en was a fun time to post about death
> 
> writing:  
> nick — mei  
> terry — blu  
> henry — lylt  
> del — bodb
> 
> formatting and editing — lylt and bodb

**HENRY-DEL DM**

**HENRY:** Hello Del! Just wanted to ask if Glenn would be coming to this week's potluck; we haven't seen him in a while!

**DEL:** probably not.

**DEL:** death in the family, y’know?

**HENRY:** Oh no, that's terrible! I wasn't aware of his loss, I'm so sorry if I came off as insensitive. If you wouldn't be bothered by it, would it be alright for Mercedes and I to bring over her world famous lentejas, to help you both in this rough time?

**HENRY:** That's definitely my comfort food, when things get bad.

**DEL:** you know, I’m just going to let you think about that one a little harder and you come back to me when you’ve figured it out

**HENRY:** Sorry, what?

* * *

  
  


**HOME**

The drive is quiet, Terry not trying to push Nick into talking. He seems like he doesn’t want to, which is completely understandable. When they arrive at the house Terry feels a pit in his stomach.  _ God, this is gonna fucking suck so badly. _

Terry sighs and turns off the car, looking to Nick.

“Del wants me to stay with you until she gets back from taking care of something and...” Terry pauses, thinking about how honest he needs to be with Nick, “I don’t think you’d want her to see you like this.” Terry admits quietly. Why lie?

“...Okay. But, you’re gonna get bored.” Nick says simply. “... you have your family stuff to deal with. I’m fine on my own y’know. I was on my own a lot- this is like that. Just.. I’m not waiting for anybody to come home.” 

Quietly, more tears stream down his face as he swallows, opening the door and stumbling out — like his body’s weak and doesn’t want to carry its own weight.

Nick walks into the house and leaves the door open behind him, grabbing a glass of water and heading to his room. He’s hungry, but he feels too sick to eat.

He doesn’t look around the main room — he refuses to. He just beelines to his own room — hesitating for a moment when he passes by the bathroom.

He decides to go there first.

For a moment Terry is left speechless at what Nick has just said. Watching as Nick leaves the car and enters the house, Terry finally decides to follow, yanking off the sweater. It had felt too... it didn’t fit with the mood (he’s got like a tank top under it don’t @ me).

Terry had expected to hear the breakdown. The blood-curling wails, the screams of turmoil at the realization. But there’s nothing. Just Nick’s form moving through the place, blankly staring at the ground and walking like a zombie through the dark house. There’s a dim glow from the lights of the Christmas tree illuminating the pictures and clothes around the room.

It makes sense that Nick wouldn’t react like Terry had. For starters, Terry had been six years younger than Nick, emotions were more... emotional at that age. Terry certainly had a lot of feelings as a little kid. The way people handle grief is different from person to person, Terry knows that he can’t expect Nick’s actions to be predictable, but he’s still puzzled by them. 

Sending a quick little text to Samantha about what was up, he follows Nick. Even Terry could feel the presence that’s missing, there’s so much of Glenn everywhere. The slightly yellowed walls from years of smoking, a pair of boxers laid on the floor, a picture of him and Morgan on the wall. There’s nowhere you could look and not see him. Terry leans against the doorframe of the bathroom, trying his best to not be overbearing while still reminding Nick that he’s here.

“Hey, do you need anything? I can make you something hot like tea or some coffee?” Terry gets why people brought over so much food when his dad died now. It’s easy to try to offer something that’s warm and comforting.

“I’m good.”

Nick’s feet drag him into the bathroom as he softly shuts the door and locks it. He stops in front of the sink and mirror, left to stare blankly at himself for a moment.

_ He really does look a lot like his parents. _

The red streak that’s some sort of stupid family tradition, some fun thing for all three- two-  _ one _ of them, looks so bright. So obnoxiously there. 

_ He hates it. _

_ He hates this. _

He’s been growing his hair out — but now looking at it, all he can see is his father. Of how much he wanted to  _ look _ like him. It’s terrible — the only thing he can see in himself is  _ him _ .

Reaching into the cupboard without a second thought, he grabs a pair of scissors and starts to cut it all off. 

He can’t do much about the streak, but the length is easily fixable. Anything to make himself not look like him — because looking like him now feels like a crude imitation. Like it’s some shitty attempt to  _ be _ him when nobody could be him because he’s  _ fucking dead _ .

So he cuts. And snips. And lets pieces of hair make a mess as he keeps cutting.

He isn’t sure how short he wants it, he just knows it’s too long. So he keeps going until it doesn't feel long anymore.

_ But he still has his features. _

_ And those, he can’t cut off. _

He can’t bring himself to cry anymore, he’s just  _ noticing _ . Noticing his similarities, insulting them, just tired and still and unable to do anything about it. All he can do is stare.

Terry’s left with a closed, locked door in his face. That’s okay... Terry just... he’s really worried. Leaning up against the wall next to the bathroom door, Terry stares at the photos hanging on the wall. There aren’t many, the older photos only have two figures in them. They look happy, in love, more carefree and less formal. When a third figure joins there’s still the love and happiness, just a new sense of formality to them. Then there are two figures again and a lot less photos of them. The formality left completely, but the joy stayed, a new kind of joy that was different than the ones before it. The last picture he notices is the only school picture of Nick, it looks... Nick looks happy and is smiling, but now it looks...

Terry walks over to the picture and removes it from the wall, tucking it away somewhere. Leaning back towards the door, Terry can hear the sound of scissors cutting something.... hair? That’s not what Terry thought would happen. He’d expected maybe a scalding hot shower or vomiting. Softly, Terry taps on the door, hoping Nick wouldn’t see him as intrusive.

“ _ Nick? What are you doing, dude? _ ”

Letting the scissors fall into the sink, Nick doesn’t even bother to try and clean up the mess he made. It’s already a fucking filthy bathroom. What else is new?

As a test he tries to put his hair back up in a ponytail, slightly contented by the way it can’t reach.  _ Though, there’s still a sense of bittersweetness to it. _

He doesn’t want to be in front of the mirror anymore though, and he flinches at the sound of the soft knock, brought out of his own train of thought.

He doesn’t want to speak, he’s frustrated. And emotional. And tired. So he just opens the door slightly quicker than he means to, gestures vaguely to his hair, and walks past Terry to his room, where he goes to change into something else.

The main issue is, most of his comfort clothes are shirts his dad had stopped wearing and said he could have. Big on him and comfortable, and with some old band that you can’t see live again because half the members are either dead or they just completely split up.

There’s also his favourite — a Glenn Close Trio shirt he was given when they were going on tour.  _ Like having a shirt with his dad’s name on it would help. _

Nick just ends up standing there in his room instead, not really sure what to do. If he should wear one and cry, if he should avoid his stuff and wait, if he should go lay on the couch and wait as if he’s ever gonna come back. 

_ Because things don’t feel any different. And that’s the worst part. _

Nick isn’t  _ used _ to the sounds of Glenn making food in the kitchen, or pacing around the house, or practicing the guitar. He’s used to those moments being between times like this. Times of silence.

Nothing in his house fucking changed. Except for Terry following him with pity as if he couldn’t handle himself in this situation.

_ Everything feels the same. And Nick just wants to wait for his dad to come back again. Because he doesn’t feel gone. He feels like he just isn’t here yet. _

_ It’s hard, grasping the fact that he never would be. That the door isn’t going to suddenly open and have Nick running to his dad like a dog waiting for its owner. That he’d never get another stupid tourist knick-knack again. That his collection is complete now, even if he doesn’t want it to be. _

Terry gets it immediately when he sees Nick. He gets it a lot. Too much. Leaving some room between him and Nick, Terry goes to follow but stops before he enters. 

_ This fucking sucks. Terry doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t want to deal with this again. He doesn’t know how. Even though he acts like he had all the answers he doesn’t know what the fuck to do. He didn’t know then and certainly doesn’t know now. But he can’t just fucking leave. Nick needs him. Needs somebody. Even if he wasn’t acting like it, Terry knew. _

This whole situation brought back feelings Terry thought he’d never have to deal with again. The initial loss, the realization, seeing how much he really does look like his dad. Especially now that he’s older, he’ll see pictures and the resemblance is uncanny. For the longest time that hurt, until he started to look at in a more positive way. That maybe his dad could live on in him... it hurts again now. _ It hurts so much. _

This isn’t about him though. Nick’s the one who’s hurting the most. Nick has a fresh, bleeding wound, Terry has merely picked at an old scab. That still doesn’t explain why Terry can feel tears gently streaming down his cheeks as he enters Nick’s room. Nick is just standing there, which confuses him, but he just shrugs his shoulders. Closing the door behind him, Terry sits on the edge of Nick’s bed and stares at the floor. 

“ _ Do you need another hug? _ ” The way he asks, it sounds more like a plea than a question. Like  _ he _ needs one but feels too selfish to ask.

“I don’t know what to wear.” Nick completely ignores the question, glancing at his drawers with a weird look on his face. Torn, really. “I don’t have anything comfortable.”

Nick doesn’t look like he’s going to make a move to hug Terry anytime soon. He just pulls off his shirt and throws it to the floor before heading over to and flopping down on his bed, facing away from Terry and pulling out his phone.

_ Go through the motions. Do what you do everyday waiting for him. Lie here, go on your phone, watch stupid YouTube videos and waste away until he’s back. _

_ He won’t be, but waiting is the only thing he knows how to do right. _

“ _ Oh. No, yeah, lemme- _ ” Terry  **_quickly_ ** gets up from the bed. “I can... I have my sweater...  _ in my car let me get it. _ ” 

As Terry speaks it becomes increasingly obvious that he’s crying. Before Nick can comment on it, Terry leaves the room.

Terry sits in his car and sobs. Elbows wrapped around the steering wheel and his head buried in them, loud, heart-wrenching sobs escaping him. He can’t do this. He knows he can’t. He can’t- he just can’t do this again. A third time. Did the second time even count? It still hurt so much. No, Terry can’t have his dad die again. Going through that another time would be too much. 

_ You’re pathetic though. Nick is going through this not you. Fucking idiot. He didn’t get the chance to say goodbye and you did. You have more family, he doesn’t. Why are you being so selfish? You abandoned him after you said that you’d be there for him. What a poor excuse of a friend you are. Crying in your car about something that happened 6? 7 years ago?... _

Terry can’t remember when it happened.

Maybe Terry had actually lost his dad a third time already. He could barely remember anything about him. Not just the little things most people remember, like the sound of his voice or sound of his footsteps down the hall. Terry had little to no good memories left of his father. All the memories he had were fuzzy stories retold to him by his mom or family members, but none were  _ his _ . No memories of just him and his dad unless they were something unpleasant. The closest he has of a good memory is him crying after being dropped off at kindergarten, not wanting his dad to leave. The rest were moments that Terry didn’t like. 

It was hard to miss someone you barely know that badly. Yet, Terry remains in his car, the tears showing no signs of stopping. Terry can’t will himself to leave the car yet. Terry can’t. He can’t. He can’t do this. He wants to leave but he can’t do anything. All he can do is yell loud, heave disgusting sobs into his steering wheel.

-

Nick wants to help his friend. He really does.

But he doesn’t feel like that’s his job right now. He doesn’t feel like that’s his responsibility. Really, he’s _ frustrated. _

He didn’t  _ ask _ for him to come over and help him. Why was  _ he _ the one getting upset?

He knows, reasonably, he can. That it’s personal for Tj.

But he needs someone to be mad at — right now it’s Del and Terry. And he just lies in bed in his binder and shorts, not moving.

_ He hates this. _

He puts in his headphones and throws on some shitty music. The type of thing his dad would never listen to. 

Just in case.

* * *

**HENRY-DEL DM**

**HENRY:** I've had a lengthy discussion with Merc. I am so very sorry. The offer for lentejas still stands, as we might be making more servings than I had previously thought.

**DEL:** I’ll pass.

**HENRY:** right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter three is just more sad people but chapter four? some spice ;)
> 
> the editing on this chapter was less extensive than the last one so if there’s a few mistakes I apologise! this is also a shorter chapter but dw, it’s the ONLY short chapter. you love to see it!


	3. funky fresh christmas update

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was all drawn from a roleplay done for fun between a lot of people. naturally, some people lost interest. in the final scene of this chapter, the scene SHOULD continue on a little longer before coming to an abrupt stop where interest wavered. i cut this scene off earlier, which does mess with narrative flow a little, but whatever. take it or leave it, babyyy
> 
> CW: includes “disorder eating but not an ED if you get me” and “pretty similar to dissociation maybe?” type content

It’s much darker now. It has to be at least 7:00. Or 8:00? His family must be worried, unless his mom told them everything. If he were to go home now, he’d definitely run into his aunts and uncles. The little ones would be asleep. God, how was he gonna be able to act normal around them tomorrow morning? Maybe he’ll be able to get out of opening presents. Terry knows that when he smells his dad’s cinnamon rolls baking, he’ll lose it. 

He might fuck around and drive for a bit, clear his head. Still, Nick needs him... 

Debating if he should go back inside or not, headlights illuminate his car as Del pulls up beside him. Terry hadn’t realized how long he had been sitting in his car until the lights break him out of it. The tears had stopped falling a while ago, only hiccups and gasps of air are coming from Terry now. As Del turns off her car, Terry turns his on, rolling down his window and motioning for Del to come over.

What Del sees is Terry, who looks very cold, having sat in his car in only a tank top for maybe 20 to 30 minutes. His face is incredibly red and slightly wet, semi dried black stains on his face, the remaining eyeliner he had on was long gone. Terry doesn’t meet Del’s eyes as he hands her a sweater.

_ “I-I told N-Nick that I’d let him wear this but I-” _ A loud hiccup interrupts him, he can feel tears coming again. His head hurts so much. _ “I’m sorry I couldn’t- I can’t- I’m so sorry. He sh-should be in his room... I can’t just... I’m really sorry.” _

  
  
  


Del’s still  _ fine.  _ She’d sorted out what she needed to, even if she was slow about it, and everything is doing fine now. And maybe she had sat in her car in the hospital parking lot for longer than she should’ve, but her brain simply hadn’t allowed her to move her hands to put the keys in the engine. 

She’s settled back into functional nothingness for now though, which is far better than being frozen up. Terry calling her over makes her feel one thing though, however slight it is: guilt. She knew that leaving Nick in the hands of a kid was a shitty and, quite frankly, selfish decision to make, but she hadn’t been able to figure out anything better. Her brain is half shut off, and for a brief moment, she wonders how the hell she’s going to be able to get back to work when several times during the day she hadn’t even been able to remember how to move.

She doesn’t want to talk to Terry. She wants to just think  _ ‘oh yikes _ ’ and go inside. But he had brought Nick back home for her, so she could, at the very least, acknowledge he exists.

She takes the sweater but lays her arms through the open window so she can lean against the door and look down at him. 

“Woah, woah. It’s not- don’t be apologising, kid. I shouldn’t have put this on you. You didn’t fuck up here, alright? I’m sorry I took so long.”

_ “I-I uh, n-no it’s- you don’t have to- I’m good. S-sorry, a-again.” _ Very gently, Terry goes to push Del’s arms off the window, but that feels too mean. Instead Terry quickly wipes his face with his tank top, and goes to shift the car into reverse.

_ “Can- could you just- I need to go.” _ Terry stares at his hand on the wheel, feeling like he’s gripping it too tightly and but not tight enough at the same time.

_ Terry wants to run away. _

  
  


This kid has her worried, to be honest, but there isn’t much she can do. She’s not his  _ mom,  _ she barely even knows him. She can’t just  _ tell  _ him what to do. So she has to let him leave. Her mind jumps to the worst, because she’s learnt to expect it, and though she’s mostly numb, she’s aware that it’s slightly sick that she could be letting this kid go off to do something dangerous. She doesn’t know him well enough to decipher what he’s going to do once she lets him go.

“Alright,” she says, straightening up, but keeping her hands on the door so he wouldn’t try moving. “Just... take care of yourself. Here, I-“

With one hand still on the door, she reaches into her jacket pocket (It hadn’t taken her long to find where she’d left it. Turned out to be in her car in the end) and finds one of her business cards. She holds it so that he can see. “I don’t know what Nick’s going to be like, so if you want to see how he’s doing without having to deal with it all, just send me a text or something and I’ll give you an update.”

She doesn’t know exactly what she expects to happen with it. She doesn’t think he  _ will  _ try get in contact with her, and she’s not so sure she  _ wants  _ him to. But she at least wants him to know... that he  _ can  _ talk to her, even if he doesn’t want to. It’s just important to her that he knows that. And maybe she’s hoping, just slightly, that he’ll text to ask about Nick, so she can sus out whether  _ he’s  _ doing okay too.

She doesn’t wait for him to take it, she tosses it onto the top of the dashboard before he can reject it and steps back from the car. 

“You’re a good kid,” she says, “Don’t do anything stupid.” 

And with that, she turns to walk back to the house.

* * *

Nick hasn’t moved since Terry was here, not even moving to close the door. He can’t. He needs to distract himself - right now, that’s through watching Disguised Toast play Among Us.

It isn’t much - but it’s something that could keep his brain distracted. ‘Oh, he vented and did this. Oh, they came from that direction but they were seen in another room a second ago. Oh, body in electrical.’

Everything is about distracting his brain, as he lays there without bothering to put a shirt on.

_ He’s alone. Just like always. Just as he should be. _

Because when he didn’t want to be alone, he was. That’s what he deserved - because it turns out when people try and keep him company they die or leave crying.

* * *

**HENRY-GLENN DM**

**HENRY:** Glenn, I just heard about your loss from Del. If there's anything at all I can do to help, please tell me. You were always a source of calm for me back in Faerun, and I would be more than happy to try and be that for you. If this isn't a bother, Merc and I would love to whip up some lentejas, which always helps to calm me down too.

**HENRY:** Glenn? You're good, right?

**HENRY:** I know asking doesn't make sense, you probably aren't going to read any of these messages anyway, but what else should I do?

**HENRY:** There's no way you're dead, right?

**HENRY:** you didn't die all throughout the forgotten realms, all of it ended, everything was going to be fine

**HENRY:** there's no fucking way you're dead

* * *

Driving around San Dimas on Christmas Eve is... it feels wrong. Like he should be home right now. With his mom and dad, aunts and uncles, and all his little cousins. He’s already missed dinner, and the before Christmas gift opening. They must be worried. Terry can’t bring himself to care that much though. Despite how much he wants to, he can’t. Terry feels so selfish for all of this. So selfish for his actions. How he abandoned Nick when he needed him most. How he put his feelings over someone who just lost their dad not even less than 10 hours ago. 

How selfish. 

Terry can’t go home. Not yet. He needs to put something inside him. He needs something. Anything. 

Maybe he’s just hungry. Terry hadn’t realized he was an emotional eater until his dad died. It was either all or nothing for the months after. From not eating anything but peanut butter and apples slices for a week, to emptying the pantry in a couple hours. Food is something so personal to a person, especially Terry.

Terry sits alone in an empty Mc Donald’s parking lot. All his windows are down, soft piano music spilling from the radio as he bites into a holiday pie. It sucks but it’s warm. It’s his fifth. Scrolling through the several missed calls and text messages from his mom, Terry sighs, tossing his phone on the seat next to him. Eating didn’t do the trick. Terry wants something numbing, something to take him away from his mind. Weed wasn’t an option, how shitty would it be to crawl back to Nick’s to ask for weed? Terry really can’t think about what he could do. Taking a sip from the eggnog milkshake - it also sucked - Terry gets an idea.

By the time he gets home, he hopes that no one would be up. Maybe he’d run into an uncle that wouldn’t care, but no one should be up at 1 a.m. Creeping into his home like some goddamn robber, he’s greeted by a few dogs in festive sweaters. They were family too, so they came with their respective owners to all holidays. Petting the pit bull mix, Darla, Terry sneaks quietly past his sleeping cousins on the couch. Past the Christmas tree and the downstairs guest room, avoiding all the creeks in the floorboards as he reaches the kitchen. 

A small plate of cookies sit on the counter, a post it note next to it reads, “ _ For Santa (or TJ, whoever gets here first) ~ [drawing of a heart] Mom p.s I love you so much honey!! xoxo _ ”

This is when Terry starts crying. He grabs a cookie and stuffs it in his mouth despite how full he felt. Terry has never drank before, but he had never wanted to before now. Terry debates if he should mix the spiced rum with eggnog but he decided to say fuck it. Hunched over the sink, Terry does the best he can to stomach the alcohol. It burns and tastes awful, but Terry is determined to finish the quarter of the bottle. He had never been drunk before but he hopes that a stupid bliss would take over and let him sleep. It takes awhile but Terry manages to get it down, only gaging twice. 

Terry hasn’t done this in a long time but he couldn’t sleep alone tonight. Slowly and methodically, the weight of the alcohol starting to set in, Terry climbs the stairs. Walking past his room, he stands in front of his parents door. How fucking pathetic do you have to be to do this at 16... Terry cracks open the door, closing it quietly behind him. Thank God Ron was such a heavy sleeper. Terry tries to sneak into their bed without waking up his mom.

Ron is spooning Samantha, Terry ignores how gross that is, which leaves room for him to crawl under the covers in front of his mom. Resting his head on her chest, wrapping his arms around his her, like a little kid, Terry begins to softly cry. He hadn’t expected to feel the arms wrap around him. A soft hand stroking his cheek, sweet, calm words whispered into the top of his head. Terry cries more until he falls asleep in his mother’s embrace, guilt wracking his mind.

* * *

Del tries to make some food that night. 

She’s not hungry, but she’s sure both she and Nick haven’t eaten for hours now. If they don’t eat tonight, they can have it sometime tomorrow. Being busy is just... she just needs to be useful. Cooking for the Closes is the one thing she’s consistently been able to do for them. There’s still stuff left in the fridge from the last time she was here, and, like clockwork, she gets to work. 

But nothing is working  _ right _ . She cuts across something, but can’t cut the other way. She holds it steady with one hand and the other hovers above it with a knife, but she just can’t bring it down. She’s stuck. Trapped. She can’t even find the name for what she’s chopping into, doesn’t even remember what meal she’s cooking. Her breath has stilled, and she’s not getting any air anymore. She doesn’t remember being able to breath. Her hands are shaking and she can’t do anything but look at them. The rest of her is frozen, even her thoughts. She’s drifting away from herself and can’t quite figure out which way her senses go. The house is too silent, but she doesn’t know if that’s the lack of people or the fact that her ears aren’t telling her brain what’s going on.

It’s fine.

At some point the knife drops from her grip and the sound of metal hitting the chopping board startles her into movement.

She fumbles for her phone with numb hands and finds that the time doesn’t make sense. Either she started way later than she thinks she did or forty minutes has passed by in a few seconds. The phone drops from her hands like the knife did and bounces hard against the kitchen floor. She crouches low to the ground. The phone is chipped at the side now, but it’s fine. It’s fine. She’s fine. It’s fine. Her hand goes to reach for it, but it rests in the air above it instead. She can’t move it anymore. She can’t make the connection between her hand and herself, she’s not even so sure this  _ is  _ her hand. 

Del falls back from the crouch to sitting on the floor, and presses her back against a cupboard. She’s still not breathing. Her chest heaves up and down too quickly but there’s no air in the room.  _ She’s not breathing. _

She leans her head back, pushing into the wood behind her, and the pressure centres her just a bit. Enough to know she’s not going to finish cooking tonight. And enough to have her wondering if she can remember where Glenn keeps his alcohol. 

She reaches for her phone again. She’s been not cooking for an hour now.

* * *

**YEET-TERRY DM**

**YEET:** Ay dude!! Merry Chrysler!!!

[five hours later]

**TERRY:** hey

**YEET:** Yo

**YEET:** Uh,,, how has ur day been?

**TERRY:** not great

**TERRY:** glenn died yesterday

**TERRY:** sorry to tell you over text

**YEET:** Oh

**YEET:** Fuck

**YEET:** Who told you?

**TERRY:** i drove nick to the hospital so

**YEET:** Oh shit

**YEET:** Are you still with him? How are you two?

**TERRY:** yeah

**TERRY:** i went home

**TERRY:** he’s at his house with del

**TERRY:** it’s not

**TERRY:** it’s not great

**YEET:** Shit

**TERRY:** yeah

**TERRY:** shit

**YEET:** Do you like,,, wanna get out of your house? We can go on a drive or something if ya want? Or just,,,

**YEET:** Idk it sounds hard dealing with that while around so many people

**TERRY:** maybe

**TERRY:** my mom probably wouldn’t want me to leave tho

**YEET:**

Does she know?

**TERRY:** yeah

**YEET:** Well idk if you want to go and take some time to urself im sure she’ll get it

**YEET:** Shit is Ron okay?

**TERRY:** i don’t think my mom told him yet

**TERRY:** wants to wait until our family leaves

**TERRY:** i might be able to sneak out or convince her

**YEET:** I mean idk I’m a responsible lad if she’s worried about u goin off and like,,, idk she usually lets u have ur space with important things and this is,,, one of em

**TERRY:** i guess

**TERRY:** yeah

**TERRY:** getting out of the house would be nice

**YEET:** Hmu when i can come pick u up and I’ll be there dude

**TERRY:** now would be great actually

**YEET:** Okay, give me at most ten and I’ll be there

**YEET:** I’ll text you

**TERRY:** ok

**TERRY:** thanks

**YEET:** Of course dude

Yeet grabs the keys, heading out of the house relatively quickly. Killa is out and he shoots her a text saying he was gonna be gone for a bit with Terry. He tries not to think about it too hard; the fact that Glenn Close is dead. 

It’s strange. Unbelievable, really. He’s sure it would hit later, as it has before. But this is different... Glenn had always felt so untouchable. He had done so much shit, it was like... he just couldn’t die. But he knows it isn’t a joke and he knows Terry wouldn’t lie to him. But one thing is for sure. 

Glenn wasn't supposed to die. 

Though, he doesn’t think any parent is supposed to die. He saw how that left him and Killa, and heard how it affected Terry. And he’s sure the general group of the people who had been in the forgotten realms would be affected. The dads and Nick especially. But him and Terry had lost someone before- shit, Darryl too. And you don’t just deal with it in one swoop. It’s months of rebuilding yourself and filling the gap they left in your life. And no matter how many times you fill that gap, it can open up once again in mere seconds. 

_ Shit _ . First time Yeet accidentally found some hallmark movie or something like that that featured a parent death he absolutely lost it. Cried through all of it and lost the plot because he couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

By now he knows he lost his mom years before she passed, probably more around when she first got sick. She fell through his grasp as the months went on. And before he knew it, he had been holding onto a ghost. And then she was gone. 

Hearing that Glenn died reignited a bit of that. That gap. Because even if your parent isn’t there, you still have ways in which they’re a part of your life. For Yeet, that came up in waiting for letters with hospital bills and Tuesday nights feeling exceptionally lonely with no room to stay in and study. 

And it continued to pop up when he found himself on a street that led to the hospital or when he got calls from unknown numbers, expecting it to be the hospital for more news. And it just... it never went away. Sometimes it fades, but it can always come back.

Death especially does it. He hadn’t had to deal with real life death though. Not since she had gone. 

But now he did and it hurt, it would be a lie to say otherwise. Outside of his own trauma, he had cared about Glenn, spending too much time talking to him about skateboarding and listening to the music he’d show him. And a bit too much time staring. Glenn was... one of the first of them to just be  _ nice  _ to him and connect. And it had been so refreshing then. He’d never gotten super close to Nick, but they still matter to him. 

But he isn’t  _ friends _ with Nick. And Nick has family in town, last he heard. He isn’t the one to text or call and say “sorry that ur dads dead hope u get well soon” because that’s  _ useless. _ So he’s useless for consoling the person most in pain by this, and shit, he doesn’t know  _ anything _ about Del. 

But he does know Terry. 

And Terry took his dad’s death differently. Which made sense, they were  _ wildly _ different situations that happened at different ages. But he knows death doesn’t go away. There’s a reason ghosts are considered haunting. And sometimes, when faced with death, the whole world’s haunting. 

So, Yeet has a lot on his mind as he drives over to TJ’s. But that’s just... how it is when someone died. He had a lot on his mind the first time he killed someone, and he had a lot on his mind the first time an ally died. He sheltered himself from death in Faerun, did his best to try to pay no mind to it - and it helped as much as it could. Which wasn’t a lot. 

But it was different after coming to earth. Earth doesn’t need to be life or death. Earth is where the person he dedicated much of his years to died, and he spent a lot of his time here working through that. 

He knows Glenn’s death wouldn’t set in ‘til later. When he wants recs for more songs or wants to show him a new trick he learned. 

So he has one goal as he parks on the street by Terry’s house. Help his friend the best he fucking could and have a good time while doing it. Yeet shifts into park, sending a text and waiting.

**YEET:** Im parked out front

Samantha had let Terry sleep in Christmas morning, telling her siblings that he wasn’t feeling well. Which wasn’t entirely a lie. He’s feeling awful. In his mind, he had abandoned his friend after his dad died. All because he couldn’t handle his own emotions. That he had broken a promise he’d made  _ that day. _ Terry feels like absolute shit. Scum of the goddamn. Too fucking selfish to help his friend. Even when he knew how he felt, he still abandoned him.

Terry is tired. Tired of being tired. Tired of death and dying and all the shit that comes with it. So, Terry does what he does best. He hides. He hides from his family, his mom and dad, from Nick. He hides from himself under the covers of his parents’ bed, feeling small for the first time in a while . All he wants is ~~his dad~~ his mom to hold him and tell him he’d be okay. Protect him like she did back then. But she can’t be there now. She has to mingle and be happy with her family. Her family  _ knows _ somethings up with Terry because there’s always  _ something _ up with Terry. From the depression to the anxiety to the anger issues to the perfect grades to the flawless piano recitals. There is always something. He’s always doing something and sometimes he just wants to stop.

He wants to stop and disappear for a while. Let the world float by and figure itself out. Slip into the floor boards and become a silent observer of everything. Yet, no matter how hard he tugs at the comforter and pushes the pillow over his head, he still remains. He’s still here and he just wants to go somewhere else. 

_ anywhere else but here. _

Relief isn’t the right word for what Terry feels when he finally decided to check his phone. There must be a stronger word for the gratitude that Terry had for Yeet. For giving him an out. The bad feelings set in when he realizes he has to tell Yeet what had happened. He doesn’t want to talk that much over text or in person. After he says yes, Terry sends his mom a quick text, asking if he could dip. She’s reluctant but allows it. 

It takes him a while to work up the courage to leave the bedroom, but Terry needs to change into something else besides a tank top. Maybe put on some deodorant, try and wash his face. No, that’s too much, he doesn’t need to yet. He creeps into his room, praying to whoever’s listening that he wouldn’t run into a relative. Thankfully, his room is empty of any cousins. He just throws a sweater over the tank top, rolls deodorant on and looks for his wallet. He hides away in his room, locking the door as he waits for Yeet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Scum of the goddamn.’ was a typo i just COULDN’T take out
> 
> yeet and terry stuff probably won’t progress any further if we post more, and there ARE a few more awkward pauses where people jumped ship in the future? but i might just post what was written anyway. this was never QUITE meant to be presented as a cohesive narrative anyway, and there’s some nice writing just sitting there. this might turn into more of a collection of dead glenn au one-shots rather than a story with a narrative goal, were I to post as is written
> 
> merry crisis!!!


End file.
